


like real people do

by alexanderlightweight



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dragons, BAMF Magnus Bane, Fairy Tale Elements, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Intimacy, Isolation, Libraries, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Shapeshifting, Smitten at First Sight, Soft Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, dragon!Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 18:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21451018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderlightweight/pseuds/alexanderlightweight
Summary: With the fate of the world resting on his shoulders as he searches for the key to Lilith's demise, Magnus finds himself faced by temptations far more valuable than even the spell that can cage Edom's Queen.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 32
Kudos: 112





	like real people do

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to post this fic! I got the idea for it while texting a friend as a small ficlet and set it aside and then one day I picked it up and it grew into this much larger story.

Alicante may have been glorious to behold, with tall, cold steeples and looming grey arches, but it was a desolate place. It stood alone, uncaring of the world that had left it behind. A mighty fortress untouched by the destruction that had occurred outside it’s hallowed grounds and untainted by the blood spilled on the edge of it's wards.

Magnus took a moment just to look at it. 

Many had come on this journey but few survived, and those that did live to pass on their warnings had never seen more than a glint of grey stone through thick mist. To be here, standing before it’s gates and able to laud it’s glory and might, well it was a humbling experience even for a Warlock of his power and age. 

With that in mind he opened up his senses and let his magic guide him, knowing that it would take him safely through twists and turns that had ensnared and devoured others. Even with his magic and knowledge the path was still treacherous. It was a seemingly never-ending hike through waist deep snow and while his magic kept him warm and dry, it did nothing to buoy him or keep him from sinking into the deep drifts that sought to bury him. 

Eventually he made it close enough to touch the rough hewn walls and the shiver that racked his body had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the ancient and powerful magic held within those walls. 

It made him grateful that he had denied the children who had wanted to come with him.

Clary and Jace, for all that they were fierce warriors of their race, were little more than infants when faced with the larger reality of the world. They trained ever so diligently with their weapons but were currently lost in the euphoria of being the best in a very small pool of applicants. They’d never truly ventured into the world and if they’d joined him they would be no more, lost somewhere in the snowy wake behind him before they could ever fully come into themselves. No, it was better that he’d refused their aid. 

Curiosity caused him to turn and look behind him and Magnus found himself unsurprised that the path he’d made was already gone. Whether by wind or by magic, the thick path he’d carved from the snow had been smoothed over, once again creating an untouched and crystalline wasteland for as far as the eye could see. There were shadows in the far off distance and while he knew them for the forest they were, they seemed little more than the night coming early to swallow up what little light peered through the thick, grey sky. 

Around him, the storm continued to rage and Magnus wondered just when the last time Alicante had been seen was. 

Near the main gate a garden of ice had grown, with delicate flowers protected by sharp decapitating thorns that could freeze a heart before the cold, moving vines had finished strangling an intruder. Yet through it all, Magnus passed unharmed, almost as though he belonged there.

When he finally them, he found that the main doors of Alicante itself were broad, gloriously sturdy openings but Magnus ignored them. There were smarter and safer ways to enter a fortress than the most obvious ones. Magnus had no desire to see just how Alicante greeted her visitors, no matter that his welcome had been much warmer than anticipated thus far. 

Magic led him to an alcove, above eye level but not so high that he couldn’t have climbed to it even without magic. It was a smaller door, less ornate but no less sturdy than the main entrance. 

Fire arched across the wood in decorative shards of amber and blood hued glass. The wood itself was deceptively warm to the touch, inviting and Magnus’ hand fit to the handle as though it had been made for him.

For a door that had assumedly, not been opened in centuries, it swung open easily. The hinges smooth as if they’d been freshly oiled in preparation for his arrival.

Magnus stepped inside and let out a quiet breath, for the halls of Alicante were warm compared to the frigid temperatures of the landscape. The wind tried to sneak in with him, brisk and hungry in it’s journey yet it reeled back as if struck, unable to descend down the hallway and into the fortress of knowledge.

It gave Magnus hope that the spells and ancient magic that kept Alicante intact, much less thriving, would mean that it’s hoard of knowledge was safe and unharmed from both war and the elements of the land.

Despite the ease of his journey thus far, this was no fairytale. 

The torches that lit his way were fed by Magnus’ magic. His feet left no noise on the solid stone floor because he willed it so. The lack of dust and decay was not his doing, but he made sure to cloak himself in a cape of magic that would keep himself from adding any signs of his journey.

A wraith in the night, that was his mission.

-

An hour into his arrival at Alicante and Magnus was beginning to think that the true protective magic of the library was its ability to confound and confuse him. It hardly needed to use outside elements to kill intruders when it’s deceptively warm and inviting halls continually led them astray from their goal. Every turn he made simply offered a new path and a doorless corridor that seemed to go nowhere. 

It wasn’t until he lashed out with his magic, its normally soothing blue turning a dark and impatient red, that Magnus was led from the outer battlements of the library to it’s inner sanctum. Beneath his magic and before his eyes, the grey and silver walls of Alicante melded to form a hidden, insignificant doorway and Magnus’ breath snared as he opened it.

Warm, rich tones of wood made up the floors and was so richly imbued with magic that he doubted it could be scratched, even from a diamond-tipped implement. The walls here were full of color, made from smooth and vibrant stones that crossed patterns naturally. All earthen colors and inviting in a way that he would never have imagined from this particular library. 

The furniture he came across echoed the pattern. Large cushions and polished wood and then the books Alicante was known for started to appear.

At first they were sparsely placed across his path. The shelves that lined the halls held both trinkets and scrolls and tomes but never more than a few of each and none invited his magic.

Once, out of mere curiosity, he browsed through a shelf, flicking open a book to find an encyclopedia of all things. Rare and old to be true, but hardly an ancient magical tome of wisdom, nor half so priceless as the sapphire helm it lay beside or the scroll holding a long forgotten potion that healed the body of blight.

It was with a deep and tragic wistfulness that Magnus forced his fingers to do nothing more than trail gently along the edges of the scroll as he set it down and left it behind. 

The amount of knowledge he could gain here, the temptation that wore on him to settle into these hallways and simply learn could easily consume someone and it was no wonder that none who made it to Alicante had returned. Or perhaps, this was more Magnus’ folly than anyone else's. 

-

Magnus wasn’t sure how long he searched before the silence that had haunted his footsteps disappeared, interrupted by an eclectic staccato dance of crackling pops and arching snaps. He followed the noise around a corner and found himself at an open door. It was made of solid oak and so expertly designed that Magnus had to reach out and run his fingertips over the carvings on it. 

The room itself was warm and already lit by a steady fire that roared in an ornate hearth. Magnus’ gaze skimmed over the shelves that lined the walls but his attention was pulled to the fire and a dark bundle there. At first, he thought it was merely a lump of blankets or cushions and it wasn’t until he drew closer that he realized it was someone and not something. 

It was no wounded adventurer or antiquated skeleton, instead the sleeping figure embossed on a thick fur rug seemed hale and timeless in the warm glow of flame. His hair was dark and his features so stunning that Magnus had to first check himself for enchantments and when he found none, wondered at the sight before him. 

In that moment, Magnus forgot about his goal and all the hope that rested upon his shoulders. Everything in him narrowed down to focus on the sleeping vision before him and his magic flared, automatically checking the room for traps as though it knew Magnus would suffer nothing that tried to distract or detain him.

“Who are you?” Magnus asked the silent room, awe that had no business being there sneaking into his voice. “Never-mind that,” he quickly murmured to himself, gathering his wits and magic as he knelt by the sleeper’s side. Blue flames flickered from his fingertips and kissed the man’s face as Magnus tried to heal any unseen injuries and check for curses. Magic was thick around him, like a heavily weighted blanket laid casually about the sleeper’s form, but it was not malicious. 

In fact there was nothing overtly dangerous at all and Magnus’ magic was silent in return as he wondered just what Alicante had done to the sleeping figure for him to be so still, like a statue carved from flesh but never gifted life. Despite his worries, the man was definitely alive and Magnus could feel soft little puffs of breath tickle his hand and the delicate jump of a pulse as he pressed his fingers to the man’s throat. Unsure exactly what he was doing or if it was helping, he added more magic to his touch and finally rested his palm over the other’s heart, feeling it’s gentle but steady beat and echoing the tempo with his magic. 

It took a moment for the foreign magic to respond, opening up just enough for his own magic to slip through and begin the delicate process of waking the man up. 

“Here,” Magnus said when he caught the first twitch of lips and the flutter of an eyelash. “Don’t open your eyes too quickly,” he murmured, keeping his voice soft. A twist of his wrist and a gentle flare of his magic summoned a glass, “sip slowly now, I’m not sure how long the spells would have kept you asleep.” 

“Spells?” The man murmured against the glass and Magnus pulled it away, unthinkingly reaching out and brushing away the lingering drops of water from the man’s lips before they could fall.

They were soft under his touch. Unparched by time and Magnus found a part of him grateful that at least whatever spells had bound this being here, wrapped in magic and entrapped by slumber, had been kind to his body. 

Eyelashes fluttered again and a confused grimace pulled tightly on the corners of his eyes before wide, hazel orbs were revealed and Magnus nearly stumbled over in his delight to see them. 

“Oh, hello.” Magnus said, breathless from the sudden punch of affection that had mistakenly torn into his heart. He’d expected some relief perhaps, it would be only natural to feel excitement at meeting someone else who had survived mostly intact from Alicante’s perils, but he found that his heart beat for quite a different reason instead. 

“Hi.” 

“How are you feeling?” Magnus asked and then mentally reoriented himself, “I’m Magnus by the way.” 

“Alec, I’m Alec.” Alec’s voice was a surprisingly smooth rumble and the firelight flickered a warmth over his face that tinted his eyes and shadowed his lips. Magnus unconsciously reached out, hand hovering by Alec’s mouth.

“The magic on you was-” Magnus hesitated as he struggled to find the words to explain. “It wasn’t anything harmful, but it was a very deep magic. I’m not sure how long you were asleep for.”

“Don’t worry,” Alec, whose name was no doubt Alexander, told him. A strong hand caught his wrist, thumb soothing circles against his pulse, “it hasn’t been all that long.”

“How do you know?” Magnus asked, unable to not feel worry as he pressed his other hand to Alec’s brow. It was thankfully cool but that didn’t mean there weren’t hidden ailments in Alec’s body. “It could have been tens of years or even a few centuries that you were trapped here. Stasis magic like that often does a great deal of hidden damaged." He explained but this time he kept his hands to himself, however much he wanted to reassure himself with touch. 

“It hasn’t even been a decade,” Alec said and his eyes softened. “I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m fine. I was just napping and slept a little deeper than I realized, that’s all. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t wake up when you made it through the wards.”

“Napping?” Magnus asked, wondering what element of the curse made it’s bearer think that such a long sleep was akin to a nap. Even immortals exhausted with life didn’t just take a nap that stretched out for years. “You don’t... forgive me, but you don’t seem surprised that you slept for so long.”

“Mmm, no. If you hadn’t come I would have slept for at least another decade.” Alec stretched as he spoke, arms up as rolled his muscles and spine. “I was tired and the storm had been giving me a headache with all that hail so I took a nap.”

“The storm was giving you a headache?” 

“The wards send empathic feedback to me.” Alec said, as if he were commenting on the dreariness of the weather rather than the fact that he was intimately affected by it. 

Whatever thoughts Magnus was having were snipped in the bud as Alexander’s knowledge of social niceties had clearly been left back in dreamland. Not that Magnus was in any opposed to suddenly having a gorgeous being try to climb into his lap, merely confused by it. He reached out and whether it was to stop Alec or help him he didn’t know. What he did know was that he found himself with his hands firm on Alec’s hips as he helped to steady a sleep-muddled and beautiful man who seemed very content with his new position. 

“You’re really beautiful,” Alec said as he peered closely at Magnus’ face. 

“Thank you Alexander.” Magnus managed through a dry mouth and he found himself staring somewhat bewildered into large, luminous eyes that blinked happily at him.

Alec’s shirt was vintage _ -of an outstanding quality that Magnus remembered from centuries ago- _and unfastened which was suddenly much more obvious with how close he was. If Magnus were a lesser man he would probably have lowered his hand and petted at Alec’s exposed torso, to feel the warmth of his skin and see if he purred. Alec looked like he would and Magnus was more tempted by that possibility than he’d been by any of Alicante’s treasures.

In an effort to control his wandering thoughts and hands, Magnus cleared his throat and put his hand on Alec’s arm instead, “maybe we should try getting you up.” 

After a moment Alec nodded and placed both of his hands on Magnus’ shoulders for balance before pushing himself up with fluid roll of his hips that Magnus felt was honestly, completely unnecessary and more than a little unfair. The motion made his breath catch in his throat and he coughed again, hoping that he’d gotten sick on his journey here and this was just a symptom of a cold. 

Alec swayed for a moment, looking curiously down at his own feet as if surprised by the sight of them and then offering a hand to Magnus. Magnus felt weightless with the ease that Alec pulled him up and found himself looking around the softly lit room, trying to distract himself by looking for clues.

“Alexander, have you been here very long?” He supposed that it was entirely possible_ -though quite unlikely- _ that Alec had been a caretaker of the library. Kept alive and young by magic and sleep, either a remnant of the library when it had been first lost, or a traveler who’d found it by accident and since been trapped.

“All my life,” Alec told him, “I took my first breath here”

“This, well,” Magnus paused diplomatically, “it’s a very interesting place to be born.”

“Hatched.” Alec said, as though it were an important distinction and Magnus supposed in a way, it truly was. “My mother’s nest was deep below, where the frost lingers even in the summer and ice crystals form as perfectly as the crystals that are mined.”

“Oh, how lovely.” Magnus said, for lack of a better response and Alec smiled at him, a beautifully gorgeous turn of his lips that Magnus’ couldn’t quite appreciate when his brain was somersaulting frantically.

**Author's Note:**

> tags will be added as chapters are, just in case I'm missing something (please let me know if I've missed a tag that needs to be added)
> 
> hope you enjoy!
> 
> I'm on tumblr as [alexanderlightweight](https://alexanderlightweight.tumblr.com)


End file.
